


Shadow of a Damaged Heart

by akamine_chan



Series: Space Is Dark [3]
Category: Bandom, Hush Sound, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Artificial Intelligence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark was dangerous, Gerard and Helena knew that, but the Dark was home.  They hunted subatomic particles, selling their harvest and followed the shift of gravitational currents from world to world. </p><p>And in spite of <i>knowing</i> how dangerous the universe was, it was still a surprise when they got the mayday from Mikey and Bunny Marie.  Bunny Marie damaged beyond self-repair, her engines destroyed, spinning helplessly, unable to maneuver.  Mikey was going into stasis and Bunny Marie was shutting down all non-essential systems; they could hold out until Gerard and Helena found them, however long it took.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow of a Damaged Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to Andeincascade and Luce for major major hand-holding and beta work and etc. Without them, this story would never have gotten done
> 
> Thanks to everyone who cheered me on, and encouraged me in this madness. I love you all.
> 
> Many thanks to the mods, who were kind enough to let me post at the very end and put up with my many annoyances.
> 
> Turlough created the most amazing art for the story, please check it out and let her know how awesome she is.
> 
>  
> 
> [Art](http://archiveofourown.org/works/946660)
> 
>  
> 
> Fisa-is-your-friend created a fascinating mix for the story, please check it out and let them know how awesome they are.
> 
> [Touching Darkness](http://fisa-is-your-friend.dreamwidth.org/1107.html) fanmix

## Part I

By the time Gerard received the transmission, it was already much too late.

* * *

He listened to the mayday twice before Mikey's words started to sink in through the numbness.

"Gee, I'm hoping when you get this, Bunny Marie will be powered down and I'll be in stasis. We hit something, I don't—" The signal faded out, and then back in with a burst of static. "—bably got too close to a patch of dark matter, took out the engines. Gonna deploy the emergency ion ramscoop—" There was a loud explosion in the background, the sound of metal tearing. "Fuck," Mikey said. "There went the aux magsail."

Mikey's voice was calm, almost bored, but Gerard knew that meant that he was trying not to panic. There was a screeching whine, interference of some sort, cutting across what Mikey was saying. "—rie can hold things together, you and Helena just need to come and find us."

There was a long pause, and if Gerard concentrated, he could hear faint beeping in the background as Bunny Marie struggled to minimize the damage. Gerard knew every system alarm a ship could make, and by the sounds of it Bunny Marie was leaking fuel and heat into cold space. She was fighting fruitlessly to dampen the vicious spin they'd picked up from the collision as well.

It was bad. 

"Gonna divert power to boost our location and trajectory signal. Come and find us, big brother." Mikey swallowed audibly, and Gerard was distantly glad that Bunny Marie hadn't had the power for a vid signal. Hearing the fear in Mikey's voice was bad enough. Seeing it on Mikey's face would have killed him.

Another crackle of static, then "—love you, Gee."

The transmission ended with a hiss of white noise, and Gerard realized he was breathing fast, almost panting, teeth clenched against the scream that was trapped in his throat. _Mikey Mikey Mikey—_.

Helena's presence brushed against him, confused and scared, and Gerard consciously relaxed his hands, ignoring the little bloody half-moons dug into his palms. He didn't have time for hysteria, every moment that passed decreased the chances of finding Mikey and Bunny Marie. They had to start _now_. 

_?_

Helena had picked up on his worry and fear, reflecting it back to him. She liked Mikey and Bunny Marie was her sister-best friend, the only other ship in the universe that was as smart as her. _Family._

Gerard laid his hand against the wall, palm flat. "We'll find them." The words sounded like a promise.

* * *

They'd been out for a long time, so in spite of the rush of urgency that pounded through Gerard's blood, they headed back toward civilization. Helena protested, but Gerard pointed out her engines needed some long-delayed maintenance, and they needed to sell their harvest of neutrinos, accelerons and bosons. The quark collector, on the other hand, was only a quarter full; it wasn't worth the effort to empty the magnetic container. It could wait until next time.

Helena had a small nanosynth and with the ordinary interstellar matter they collected, they never had to worry about basic supplies; the nanosynth created what they needed. The credits they earned from selling their cache of particles easily covered the cost of anything beyond the necessary. 

"What about you?"

"What about me? No, I'm—" Gerard looked at the chronometer and realized it had been a while since he'd last gone in for rejuv. He could go a little longer without, but if they were going to be docked for a while, it made sense to go in for a treatment. It wouldn't hurt to be as healthy as possible before going back out into the Dark. "Yeah, okay."

There was a muted wash of happiness from Helena, and Gerard sighed. "Where's the nearest port?"

Helena projected the 3D star map, turning it slowly, bright red arrows indicating their present position, and the last known location of Mikey and Bunny Marie. Between the two lay the Epsilon Crucis system.

"Toro's," Gerard said softly, and Helena perked up a little. Ray Toro had one of the best dry dock repair stations in the sector, tethered around Crucis Three, and he knew his way around ships like Helena. It was expensive, but Toro was worth it. _Helena_ was worth it.

The Port on Crucis Three wasn't half bad, either. Gerard could take advantage of the rejuv clinic and stock up on supplies before they headed back into the Dark after Mikey and Bunny Marie.

"Let's go, then," Gerard said, and he felt a hum in the back of his brain as Helena started her engines up. He sat in the pilot's chair and watched Helena plot out the course on the viewscreen, calculating the orbital mechanics with the ease. Well, she _was_ smart. 

Gerard could do the math, too, just not as quickly; he was created to travel between the stars, hunting elementary particles, and his mind didn't work as fast as hers. He let his head rest against the back of the chair. Gerard could feel his fear, razor-sharp, nestled in the bottom of his stomach, waiting. It left a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. "Mikey, hold on, we're coming," he whispered.

* * *

Gerard and Helena did some housekeeping on the way to Crucis Three, cleaning up the living quarters, doing a thorough inventory of their supplies. They spent long stretches of time alone in the Dark chasing particles, and they rarely had visitors, so they weren't accustomed to keeping things neat. 

Mikey was their only regular visitor, and he didn't give a damn about the dust.

But they were heading toward civilization, and that meant the possibility of having people on board, and Helena was adamant that they neaten things up. "It's not like it's filthy," Gerard protested, waving around a circuit wrench he'd found in a box of recyclables. "It's just sort of. . .disorganized."

Helena broadcast her disapproval and directed a swarm of small bots to clean the flight deck. Gerard left her to it and went down to the cargo hold to switch out the containment boxes. He ran diagnostics first, because the one time he hadn't, the containment field had collapsed and he'd ended up spilling the entire harvest. Mikey had teased him for orbs about it. 

His heart clenched and he caught his breath. "Mikey—fuck. _Mikey_." Gerard closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat, counting each pulse until his panic subsided to a more manageable level. "Focus, Gerard," he mumbled to himself. Methodically, he swapped the mostly full magnetic containers for empty ones, watching carefully to make sure that the fields kept their integrity. He stowed them away safely and looked around the hold.

Helena had been designed as a trade ship, but they'd never done a lot of it. There were boxes of goods that they'd collected over the orbs, taking up space and as Gerard stared at them, he realized he had no idea what was in some of the boxes. It'd been awhile since he'd had any interest in trading.

It wouldn't take them long to get to Crucis, a few cycles at most, but Gerard needed something to keep him from brooding and worrying; reorganizing seemed to be the perfect kind of mindless task.

_art_

Helena flashed him images of his sketchbooks, piled inside a drawer in his quarters. He hadn't touched them in orbs, and his fingers itched at the memory of the joy he used to take in his art. "No," he sighed and Helena sighed back.

* * *

When they were in range, Gerard contacted Toro's Repair Dock. He and Helena had done enough business with Ray that they had Ray's direct code; Gerard didn't have to wade through a series of clerks and managers to talk to the owner. 

Ray's face appeared on the viewscreen and there was a pause before Ray smiled, wide and friendly. "Gerard, my friend! What a pleasant surprise."

Ray was a large man, tall and broad, with the curliest, fluffiest hair Gerard had ever seen. He was a genius when it came to ships repairs and his staff was efficient and knowledgeable. Helena broadcast her happiness at having her mechanical needs tended by Ray and his crew. "It's been a while," Gerard said. 

"It has," Ray nodded. "Everything okay with you and Helena? Mikey and Bunny Marie?"

Helena flinched away from the surge of fear Gerard felt. 

Gerard needed to explain to Ray the urgency of his visit, but the heavy ache in his chest made it hard to string the words together. Gerard couldn't bring himself to say _Mikey's gone_ out loud. That gave too much gravity to the situation, cost too much hope to even verbalize.

Something must have shown on his face, because Ray shifted and asked, "What happened?"

Shaking his head, Gerard struggled to find the words. "Mikey—" He broke off, at a loss.

"There's an open berth, Gerard. Why don't you have Helena dock and once she's settled and safe, you can come down to my office and we'll talk," Ray said calmly.

Ray's offer was something of a surprise, but Gerard nodded, relieved by the suggestion. "Still a cycle out."

Ray tilted his head and tapped at his control board. "I'll reserve the berth for Helena. Just give me a ping when you dock, all right?"

"Yes."

Ray smiled at him, and when he moved to disconnect—

"Ray." He looked at Gerard curiously, expectant. "Thank you." The words weren't as difficult as Gerard had feared.

"You're welcome," Ray said, and signed off.

Gerard made himself get out of the pilot's chair and work on the tasks that needed to get done before they hit Crucis Three.

* * *

Toro's Repair Dock was a huge cylinder in geosynchronous orbit over Crucis Three, tethered to the planet below by a beanstalk. There were a large number of berths on the outer surface of the station; the interior was a labyrinth of corridors, mechanic bays, machine shops, storage units, and offices. It was one of the best repair docks in the quadrant, and it was always, _always_ busy. The waiting list for a berth at Toro's was months long.

Gerard got lost; he always did, but Helena laughed softly through his implant and projected a map onto his retina display, with obvious arrows pointing him in the right direction. The halls were filled with noise, the voices of various peoples, human and otherwise, raised in discussion, in argument. He dodged out of the way of a large trundling robot who waved a mechanical arm in apology, and almost stumbled over some electrical cords that inexplicably trailed into the hallway.

Toro's was loud and boisterous and normally Gerard was fascinated, but right now, all he could think about was how much time he was losing, how much harder it was going to be to find Mikey.

He found Ray's door and politely knocked, and pushed the button at the muted "Come in."

Ray was standing in front of a huge holo that displayed all the ships that were currently docked at Toro's, with notations of the progress of repairs for each ship. There were other details, work crew assignments, running tallies of the cost of labor and parts, and other arcane mechanical things that Gerard had no idea about. It looked impressive, though.

"Hey, friend," Ray said, and before Gerard could blink, he was enveloped in a hug. He tried to flinch back, but Ray just gently kept him close. For a long moment, Gerard stood frozen, uncertain. Mikey was the only one who'd touched him in orbs and he didn't know how to respond to Ray. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, and suddenly he was leaning into Ray, letting go of the tension and worry and fear. 

Ray rubbed soothing circles on Gerard's back before leading him to sit in a comfortable chair. "Tell me what happened," Ray said, sitting opposite Gerard in a matching chair.

"Mikey and Bunny Marie—I got a transmission—" Gerard tried to slow the tumble of works, fought to catch his breath, but once he started, he couldn't seem to stop. "He said they took damage, the engines were dead and I could hear Bunny Marie fighting to get the inertial dampeners back on. It sounded like the hull was breached. Mikey said he was going into stasis, and Bunny Marie was going to shut down all non-essential systems."

Looking concerned, Ray leaned forward. "Did they ping their trajectory, velocity, acceleration?"

Gerard nodded and gulped for air. "Yeah, yeah, they did, but Bunny Marie had a pretty bad spin; there's no way they were going to fly straight. It makes it almost impossible to track them. The Dark is too big—there's too much emptiness—"

"Easy," Ray said, squeezing Gerard's shoulder. "One step at a time. What does Helena need to bring her back up to spec?"

"Plasma cores need upgrading, the coolant vanes keep veering off true, some of the solar arrays are cracked." Gerard closed his eyes and felt Helena send a data pulse to Ray's net. "Whatever Helena says," he said with a wave of his hand. "She knows what she needs."

"But sometimes she confuses what she _needs_ with what she _wants_ ," Ray joked, and Gerard managed a small smile at Helena's indignation. Her list popped up on Ray's display and he stood up to read it, nodding as he looked it over. "Nothing that requires a major overhaul, just a lot of little stuff. I can bump Helena to the top of the queue, assign some extra crew, try to get everything done as quickly as possible."

"But—your other clients—"

Ray shrugged. "It's an advantage of being your own boss. Besides, it's not going to take long."

Gerard didn't know what to say. "I—"

"You're a friend, Gerard. Friends help each other out of tough spots."

Gerard wasn't sure it was really that simple. "Thank you, Ray." 

"You should also file a formal report at the local Concordance office. Get the details about Mikey and Bunny Marie on the Net, won't hurt to have others keep their eyes open." At Gerard's skeptical look, Ray shrugged. "Can't hurt."

"Maybe not," Gerard mused.

* * *

Gerard did end up filing a report. 

He rode the beanstalk down to the Port, for once not staring at the amazing view through the viewports as the climber zipped down the cable. He ignored his seatmate and the rest of the commuters around him, lost in his own head.

The Concordance office was staffed by a solemn young man in his crisp navy uniform, who took all the relevant details about Mikey and Bunny Marie. He was professional and courteous and didn't once look at Gerard with anything resembling pity in his eyes.

"I'll get this uploaded to the Net within the beat, Sri Way, and it shouldn't take long for it to disseminate. The info'll get pushed to all the systems in the quadrant, and will be downloaded to the local Nets. If anyone runs across your brother or his ship, it'll pingback."

"Thank you." Gerard nodded and left the office.

He had a couple of beats until his appointment at the rejuv clinic, so he stopped at Cafe Crucis, which he was fond of. It had the best coffee, some of the hottest curry he'd ever eaten, and a great selection of pets.

Gerard waved his hand through the scanner, letting the system read his identchip. "A large coffee, please. And—" He looked up at the display, trying to figure out what kind of animal he was in the mood for. There were too many choices. The cashier waited, patiently. "—and a recommendation. Help?"

The cashier smiled at him. "Of course, Sri Way. Something warm, or cool?"

"Warm, definitely," Gerard answered. "Fluffy, maybe?"

"Something to play with, or something to cuddle?" She clicked a few boxes on her display.

"Cuddle."

"Okay, I've got the perfect pet for you. Her name is Priyatama, she's in Room 73, fifth floor."

Gerard grabbed his coffee and thanked the young woman.

* * *

Priyatama turned out to be the sweetest furry octopus, _Procyoctopus pellicius_. The informational poster on the wall explained that she was native to the Procyon system and that she was forest-dwelling, arboreal, and very intelligent. 

_There's talk of banning them as pets; they're too intelligent,_ Helena whispered through his implant.

Gerard had barely shut the door to Room 73 behind him when he heard a trilling noise. He looked up, and Priyatama was peering at him from behind an artificial tree branch. "Hey, pretty," he said, and she clambered gracefully down her tree and up Gerard's legs, settling her tentacle-arms around his neck. Gerard laughed and set his coffee out of the way before plopping down on the couch to properly pet Priyatama.

Helena was a little jealous, but Gerard smiled. _You're always going to be my best girl_.

Priyatama clung to his neck with her tentacles, nuzzling at his cheek and vibrating happily. Her fur was silky and cool, and she made it clear where she wanted to be petted by leaning into his touch. "Such a pretty girl," he cooed at her. She rifled through his pockets, tugged on his hair and played with his fingers and when Helena _dinged_ to let him know that it was almost time for his appointment at the clinic, he was sad to have to put Priyatama back in her tree and say goodbye.

He wondered how furry octopi adapted to life on ships, and realized that having a pet on board wasn't terribly practical, with the long stints out in Dark, and all the time he spent in stasis. He sighed. Sometimes, he just missed being touched.

* * *

The rejuv clinic was clean and white and sterile. The front counter was staffed by an Eridani, thin and tall and vaguely insectoid. They seemed to be more common in this sector, and their alien grace made Gerard long for his sketchbook, to capture the way their jointed bodies moved and twisted. 

Ze scanned Gerard's identchip and directed him to an empty examination room. One wall was mirrored, and Gerard looked at himself. He was pale, almost white; he knew he hadn't been spending enough time in the solarium lately. His skin was a stark contrast to the darkness of his hair, which hung down to his shoulders, and his clothes. Boots, pants, shirt, long jacket, all unrelieved black, accented with silver buckles and zippers.

Mikey often accused him of dressing like a villain from a holodrama and there was a grain of truth in that; Gerard had a secret love of the dramatic, and people noticed a man striding down the street dressed like a lawbreaker. But part of it was practical, because black didn't show the stains and dirt, unlike the bright colors currently in fashion with most sentients. 

He took off his clothes and slid into the warm robe provided by the clinic. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before sitting on the exam table and waiting for the rejuv clinician.

* * *

Frank noticed that man dressed in all black in line at the Cafe Crucis. It was impossible not to; he was _gorgeous_ , dark hair, pale skin. The kind of guy that Frank would totally try to pick up at a club, even when it was obvious that the guy was out of Frank's league. He tried not to eavesdrop as the guy ordered coffee and asked for advice on a pet rental, but Frank couldn't help himself. _Sri Way_ , he repeated to himself. Maybe he'd try to look up Sri Way in the Directory later.

Sri Way went off to his pet rental and then it was Frank's turn. "Hey, Greta," Frank said, smiling at the cashier. He was enough of a regular that he knew most of the employees here.

"Hey, Frank." Greta smiled back, elfin and sweet. "You here for your usual? A Starblaster and Sweet Pea?"

He loved the Starblaster, a proprietary coffee blend, spicy-sweet. "Yes, please." Sweet Pea was a tiny, scruffy little dog, wiry-haired and mangy looking. She'd been abandoned and picked up by the civil patrol and adopted by Cafe Crucis. No one would ever call her cute, but Frank found that she had the biggest heart and was an excellent listener. He came and visited her whenever he could, played fetch with her, fed her treats and taught her tricks. The owner of Cafe Crucis had offered to let Frank adopt her, but Frank's quarters were zoned no-pets. 

He'd just started his job at Toro's and was on the waiting list for crew quarters on station, where he _could_ have pets, but in the meantime, he commuted to Toro's on the beanstalk and visited Cafe Crucis and Sweet Pea as often as possible. He had a frequent visitors pass and every tenth visit was free, and Greta snuck him extra treats for Sweet Pea when he wasn't looking.

"So, that guy, haven't seen him around before."

Greta looked at him in surprise. "Sri Way? He's not from around here. Just passing through, I think." She eyed him. "He is pretty hot."

Rolling his eyes, Frank tried not to blush. "Whatever. Room 14?"

Laughing, Greta handed him his coffee and nodded. "Yeah. Sweet Pea's been waiting for you."

Frank tipped his cup at her and went to visit Sweet Pea.

* * *

"Got a new project for you to work on," Ray said.

Frank looked up from the spot weld he was doing and touched his implant. "But I'm in the middle—"

"High priority, Frank. Come down to the office and I'll give you all the details."

"Coffee, please?" Frank tried to sound pathetic.

Ray sighed. "Yeah, and some coffee."

"Be right there, boss," he said, turning off the welder and pulling off his gloves, tossing them onto his work bench. He headed spinward and took the slide down to the interior levels. It was between shifts, so the halls weren't all that crowded. Frank made good time to Ray's office.

"Special assignment. Got a friend, and his ship needs some work, but he's in a rush," Ray said, handing Frank a steaming mug. "Helena's a longhaul trade ship, run by a pretty advanced A.I. She won't tell me what make or model she is, but she's pretty damn sophisticated."

"Geodyne? Athena Systems?" Frank had some experience with A.I. controlled ships, but they weren't his forte.

"More advanced than that. I suspect either a Turing Dynamo or possibly one of the Novae lines. Gerard doesn't talk about it, and Helena changes the subject." Ray shook his head in bemusement, and his curls bounced around. "Anyway, I want you to take point on this one, pull whoever you need off other jobs to get this done, fast."

"What's the rush?" Frank drank the rest of his coffee and set the mug down.

"Not my story to tell."

Frank shrugged. "Okay." It didn't matter to him one way or the other. "Diagnostics been run yet?"

"Just sent it to your workbench. Helena's docked in berth 103. She's expecting you." Ray gave him a look. "Behave yourself."

Frank snorted. "Right, boss."

Ray clapped him on the back. "Get back to work."

* * *

Frank's first thought was _beautiful_.

Helena was built along an old design, dark and curved. She was decently fast, but she wasn't built for speed. She was made for endurance, for long journeys between systems, skimming through the Dark.

He asked for permission to board, and when he received the green, he hit the flight deck to formally introduce himself. "Frank A. Iero, Ship Mechanical Tech, Class II." 

"Helena, Concordance designation HE-5744215." 

Her voice was low and husky, sending shivers down his back, and somehow, Frank fell head over heels in love. He waited, hoping she'd say more, but after a long pause, it became clear she wasn't going to. "Sri Helena," he said carefully, "I know it's disruptive to have strangers on board, but we'll try to get all the repairs and maintenance done as quickly as possible, with the least amount of disturbance." He touched his implant and scanned the list that popped up on his retina display. "I've sent you a tentative schedule, please feel free to let me know if anything is not to your liking." He bowed his head respectfully.

"Thank you for your care and consideration, Sri Iero. It is most appreciated," she replied, and the words were warmer, less distant.

"Call me Frank, beautiful lady," he said, turning on the charm.

Helena laughed. "Frank. You're a troublemaker, aren't you?"

"Not at all, Sri Helena." He bit his lip to hold back his grin.

"Just Helena, please. 'Sri' is a human honorific."

"All right. Helena." Her name felt right on his tongue. "Let's get started."

* * *

They worked well together, Frank and Helena, and with the extra crew that Ray diverted to the project, the retrofitting and maintenance progressed faster than anyone expected. They uncovered a crack in one of the fuel intakes, and it made Frank break out in a cold sweat. Unrepaired, the crack would have grown larger over time, until the moment when the fuel would have catastrophically flooded the propulsion systems.

It had happened before, most notably with the _Rogue_ , and the _White Hart_ , and less than a decade ago, the _Sister Janey_ , ships and crew lost in the explosions. Frank had no intention of letting that happen to Helena.

"It won't," she murmured reassuringly. "You're taking such good care of me, just like Gerard."

Frank tried not to feel _too_ jealous about Helena's absent partner, who was dirtside at a rejuv clinic. "He better take care of you," he muttered, and went back to work on the stubborn fitting he was fighting with. "I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."

There was a ripple of sound, almost like laughter.

"Not funny," he breathed.

* * *

Frank had saved working on the solar array for the very last because it was the most annoying, a lot of fiddly little bits that required patience and a steady hand. "Fuck," he cursed, dropping another fastening. He took a deep breath and fought for calm. Once he was done here, Ray and Sri Gerard would do a final inspection before signing off on the repairs. Frank had already done a preliminary check, and he was sure that everything would meet Ray's high standards. 

The spanner slipped, and he ended up bashing his fingers, opening up a cut across his knuckles. " _Denge bay_!" He licked the blood up and gave up pretending like nothing was wrong. "I'm going to miss you."

Helena didn't say anything, but Frank could feel her presence like a soft whisper in the back of his mind. She understood him, listened to him when he wanted to talk, accepted his moody silences. Frank knew he was getting—had gotten attached, too attached, but he couldn't help himself. Helena was beautiful, and smart, and her laugh was rich and contagious.

He tightened down the last of the panels. "Run the diagnostic subroutine, please," he said distractedly, watching as tell-tales flashed on and off in sequence up and down the rows of solar collectors.

"A7 is a little loose, but everything else is reading green."

Frank grumbled a little under his breath as he climbed under the mast and crawled back to A7. He fiddled with the panel and made sure it was secure. "Give it another try."

"It's fine now," Helena said.

"Rad," Frank said, and Helena chuckled at his use of obscure, ancient slang. He extracted himself from under the mast and got to his feet, tossing the spanner into his toolbox with a clang. "Well, that's it, beautiful. I'm all done here."

"Gerard will be up back in a few beats, will you stay? I want you to meet him."

Frank's stomach twisted up at the idea of meeting Sri Gerard. "Sorry, love. Previous engagement." He adopted a brisk tone as he patted the nearest wall. " _Shubha prayaanan_ ," he said. _Safe journey_.

"Frank—"

Helena was gearing up for an argument, he could hear it in her voice, and Frank couldn't deal with that right now. His chest was tight and it was hard to breathe, and he needed to get out of here before he lost it. " _Shubha prayaanan_ ," he repeated, grabbing his toolkit and heading for the exit.

She let him go without a protest, and Frank couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if she'd asked him to stay.

* * *

The Port had an observation tower, one that the tourists loved to visit; it was a rite of passage to pay your 10j and ride the elevator up, to stare out at the Port and the cities beyond. At night, the lights twinkled and danced. 

There was a little shop that sold holos of the tower and some of the more well-known sights of Crucis Three. You could get a cheap reproduction of the Vajrai Waterfalls, or a bottle of purple sand from the beaches along the coast of Gujarat. Cheesy souvenirs; every port in the universe had a shop just like it. When Frank had first landed on Crucis, he'd come up here and gawked with the rest of the tourists. He had a holo of the beanstalk on his desk at work, and sometimes he was mesmerized as the miniature beanstalk turned and the climber zipped up and down.

It was freezing out, which was probably why Frank was the only one on the platform, looking not at the cities, but upwards, toward Toro's and the Dark beyond. It was a clear night. Toro's was nothing but a bright shining dot, and Frank tapped his implant. The chron said it was time, and as he squinted at the stars, he saw a dimmer dot move away from Toro's, undocking and slowly breaking orbit.

Frank watched, unblinking, until his eyes burned and the lights blurred together.

## Part II

Gerard was relieved when they finally left Toro's and headed back out into the Dark. There was a chron in his head and Mikey and Bunny Marie just got more and more lost with each passing moment. Helena felt it, too; once they hit escape velocity and left Crucis Three behind, she accelerated, hard and fast. 

Helena wasn't built for speed, but with her engines running clean and true, she could _go_.

"We'll find them," Gerard muttered, looking at the course that Helena had plotted. It was the most direct route to the emptiness that had swallowed Mikey and Bunny Marie, but it would still take them some time to get there. He was at loose ends until then, and Gerard knew that he needed to find something to focus on before he went crazy.

_art_

Helena nudged the thought at him, and he considered. It had been orbs since he'd drawn with any seriousness, but it would certainly keep him occupied. "Yeah, okay, you're right." He went into his quarters and slid open the drawer where he kept his sketchbooks. There were so many; he grabbed one at random and flipped it open, skimming through the drawings. It was, in some ways, a record of their journeys, snapshots of places they'd gone to, people they'd met, alien landscapes and views of the stars.

And Mikey, squared-jawed and serious, giving nothing away except the tiniest curl of his lip, laughing at the universe. Sketch after sketch of Mikey's awkward grace, dark eyes, messy hair. "Mikey," Gerard sighed, and the fear rose up before Gerard ruthlessly shut the sketchbook and pushed the feeling away. He grabbed another book and turned to the end, not letting himself look through the drawings this time. 

His special pencils were in another drawer, and he pulled them out and took himself to the flight deck, settling into his chair and looking at the blank sheet of paper. It had been a long time, too long, since he'd drawn, and he hesitated for a moment before pushing himself to put pencil to paper and _create_.

Gerard drew a quick sketch of Priyatama, because he'd enjoyed her company so much. He chewed at his lip as he worked to get the shading on her fur right, the subtle striping that helped her species hide from larger predators. He drew her in a tree, and on the ground, chasing the smaller, shelled rodent-analogs that were common on Procyon. He felt the flare of Helena's curiosity. "The furry octopus at the pet cafe," he explained. "I really enjoyed interacting with her. It was nice." He could feel Helena's doubt. "I know, this is no place for a pet."

He let his mind wander, and when his focus sharpened again, he'd found he'd drawn an unfamiliar young man, pointy-chinned, with an open face and a sweet smile. There was some sort of picture tattooed onto the skin of his neck, and there were dark lines peeking from under his shirt, and down his arms.

Gerard didn't know him, but he vaguely remembered seeing him—oh, the pet cafe. He'd been standing in line behind Gerard. Gerard added some shadows, shaded the curve of the man's jaw. He had an interesting face and Gerard couldn't help but wonder what his name was, what he did for a living, what kind of pet did he choose while he was at the Cafe Crucis. Gerard wanted to know what his story was.

He doodled figure studies of his mystery man until Helena made him eat something, beats later.

* * *

It looked like every other section of the Dark, empty and quiet, composed of diffuse gases, dust and subatomic particles, and that struck Gerard as _wrong_. There should be some sign, some indication of the terrible thing that had happened here, Bunny Marie damaged and out of control, spinning away into the emptiness.

"Scan turning up anything?"

"No, nothing out of the ordinary." Helena kept her voice neutral, but Gerard could feel her anxiety. "Switching over to long range scanner." They'd recalibrated the scanners, boosting their sensitivity so that they'd pick up even the smallest pieces of debris.

Gerard swallowed. "Let's backtrack a little. Try to find what they hit—" He stopped mid-sentence when the scanner chimed.

"I'm moving in for a closer look," Helena said, and she accelerated smoothly, displaying a flashing dot on the viewscreen. "Looks like—looks like chunks of nickel-iridium, and—oh no."

A cold chill ran down Gerard's spine. "Fuck," he said softly. "It was a mine, wasn't it?" There were many things that NiIr alloys were used for, and singularity mines were the most common. A pinpoint singularity, walled off from an energy source, with a proximity trigger to break the seal between the two. When a ship got close enough to the mine, the energy was released and absorbed by the singularity, which _grew_ exponentially. The intense gravitational forces would crush anything nearby. . .or severely damage a ship like Bunny Marie. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"I'm going to send a report back to the Concordance. If there are mines in this sector, there need to be hazard warnings." 

The problem with mines was that they were ubiquitous. In every major war since the first human diaspora into the Dark, singularity mines had been used. And when the fighting stopped, no one bothered to clean up the mess that was left behind. The Concordance tried; they owned a small fleet of minesweepers, but there was a lot of space, and a lot of mines. "Yeah." The best that could be done was to mark the area and warn those who might travel near.

* * *

They found the spot where the mine had detonated, the local gravitational fields still distorted by the temporary appearance of the singularity. There was more wreckage from the mine, and scraps of material that Helena was sure came from Bunny Marie. Gerard felt her certainty, and shrugged. The debris didn't yield any real clues.

"Map," Gerard said, and Helena projected a holo of the sector, green dot for their current location, red dot for the location that Mikey and Bunny Marie had sent their transmission from, and a red arrow to indicate their course. "If they'd managed to stay on that trajectory, given how long it's been and an approximation of their velocity, where would they be now?" Gerard felt Helena's stifled protest; the number of assumptions made the scenario highly unlikely, but Gerard wanted to try the most logical hypothesis first.

A probability cloud formed in the holo, dense with red dots toward the middle, becoming diffuse at the edges. 

"Let's give it a try. And if they're not there," he pointed at the probability cloud with his chin, "we can start plotting out a search pattern." 

There was no sign of Bunny Marie, no trace of her, and Gerard tried not to be discouraged. 

"We've just started," Helena said, and sent a warm surge of _lovefamily_ through him. "We'll find them."

"Okay," he said, turning his attention to the holo. "How is Bunny Marie's spin going to affect her trajectory?"

* * *

They took their time.

There was no immediate danger, with Mikey in stasis and Bunny Marie mostly shut down, and it was important be thorough. They checked out every ping that hit the scanner, usually space junk, pieces of old ships and habitats, jettisoned garbage and refuse, odds and ends. Helena dutifully recorded it all before pushing the junk toward the nearest star, the universe's natural trash disposals. Eventually, the star's gravitational force will pull the debris into a decaying orbit and it would burn, flaring bright for one moment. They found a few things that Helena seemed to feel were of historical interest, and she scanned them carefully before storing them in the aux cargo hold.

They found a body, and it was a common enough occurrence that neither of them was particularly disturbed by the event, though the young woman was remarkably whole and unmarked. Helena handled the body with respect and care, and Gerard watched quietly as Helena conducted her examination.

"Looks like the Fringewar, by her uniform," Gerard said. It was blue-green in color with silver buttons, accented with strips of red. There was a name-patch across her chest and insignia on her shoulders, but Gerard couldn't identify them. She was younger than Gerard had initially thought, maybe barely out of her teens. 

"Yes," Helena said. "Ensign Ilona Zrínyi, 43rd Division Gunner."

"She's been missing for a long, long time," Gerard mused. "Five hundred orbs, at least. Poor thing, out here all alone. . ."

"If she still has family, they'll be glad to know of her fate, to get some closure," Helena said, and that hit a little too close to home.

"Mikey," Gerard sighed. "Bunny Marie."

Helena didn't say anything, just surrounded him with her love and understanding.

* * *

Helena had spent cycles creating an algorithm that calculated an optimized search grid, one that made the most efficient use of time and fuel. It was hard to pinpoint the possibilities with any accuracy; the tumble that Bunny Marie had picked up heavily influenced her trajectory and chances were that she wasn't flying in a straight line anymore. Gerard tried not to dwell on that.

It was monotonous, investigating whatever random scrap of metal or plastic that came up on the scanner. And between the pings were long stretches of silence, with only Helena's quiet presence in the back of his head. Gerard stopped sleeping, instead sat curled in the pilot's chair in the flight deck, staring at the viewscreen, and the distant pinpricks of light. He had the EM receiver on, listening to the rhythmic white noise and static coming from some of the more energetic classes of celestial objects, the pulsars and other types of neutron stars.

He wouldn't eat real food, wouldn't leave the flight deck, so Helena broke out their stock of nutrition bars; they were flavorless and bland in spite of the claims to the contrary on the packaging, but they had enough caloric energy to keep a human alive. Gerard didn't complain, just grimaced and chewed mechanically.

Gerard dug up his sketchbooks and flipped through the pages, fingers hesitantly tracing over the sketches of Mikey's face, his long legs and gawky arms, the way Gerard's drawings had caught him bent intently over a control console, or hefting boxes in the cargo hold.

They'd been lab-grown, Gerard and Mikey, orbs ago, when the Dark was _more_ dangerous, and particle hunters a rarity. The technologies for superluminal travel had been imperfect, and ships sometimes had design flaws. Communication between distant systems had been erratic, to say the least, and there'd been no Concordance bureaucracy to smooth over the rough edges. 

There had been a million different ways to die out in the Dark, the kind of death that even a rejuv clinic couldn't fix. They'd been lucky.

Gerard remembered their first ship, a older model, ugly and ungainly, slow. He and Mikey had gone into deeply into debt to buy the damn thing, and it hadn't been worth half of what they'd paid for it. They hadn't even bothered to name it. The engines had a tendency to stall at the worst time, and it sprung microscopic hull leaks anytime they went through even the smallest of gravity differentials. 

Mikey learned to get the engines back online with a few choice words and a kick to the fuel manifold, and Gerard got pretty good at spot welding plates over the places where the metal skin of the ship had weakened.

The ship had almost been the death of them, repeatedly, and Mikey wouldn't let them go back until they'd collected enough particles to put a good down payment on a newer, better ship. One that wasn't falling apart around them, one piece at a time. It was _orbs_ before they made their way home.

Gerard shook himself. That home was long gone, their primary sun triggered into going supernova by a futile war with a neighboring sector. There'd been nothing left, three planets, six moons and a secondary sun all destroyed, their people scattered across a handful of distant systems. Gerard could barely remember what it was like, but sometimes, when he was exhausted and his defenses were down, he dreamed about forests and mountains, the smell of soil and rain, and the way the binary suns cast double shadows, dark and light.

It had been a relief to get rid of that first ship, sell it for scrap. With the profits they'd made from selling their harvest, they'd bought _Ghost_ , a sleek tradeship that they retrofit for particle hunting. She'd been a beauty, fast and maneuverable, and she served them well for a long time. After _Ghost_ , it'd been _Desert Song_ , and after _Desert Song_ , it'd been _House of Wolves_ , _Bulletproof Heart_ and _Lady of Sorrows_ before they'd stumbled across Helena and Bunny Marie.

* * *

Gerard turned the page in his sketchbook and found something he'd drawn not long before they'd found Helena and Bunny Marie. Mikey had been turned away, staring intently out the viewport, and something about the set of his shoulders was angry. He and Gerard had been fighting for weeks, ever since Gerard had caught Mikey putting in bids to buy a ship of his own.

"What's wrong with the _Lady_?" Gerard demanded, eyes narrowed. 

"Nothing, there's nothing wrong with her. I just—I just think that I want to spend some time on my own, with my own ship." 

"Away from me." Gerard didn’t mean to make it sound like an accusation, but it stung, to know that Mikey wanted to leave. 

"Gee." Mikey sighed, and rubbed at his eyes. "It's not about you. I want some time to figure out who I am, when I'm outside of your orbit. I want people to see _me_ , not Gerard Way's little brother."

"What's wrong with—"

"Nothing," Mikey interrupted roughly. "But we've been together for so long, Gee. You've been there for me since I was born, and I love you, you're my brother, and that will never change. But I need to be on my own for a while."

Gerard walked away, and the tension was unbearable, but they were both stubborn. They continued arguing and fighting until they found Helena and Bunny Marie on the far side of a moon in an uninhabited system. The ships had been powered down; Helena had sustained some damage that couldn't be auto-repaired, and Bunny Marie had refused to leave her side. Neither answered when Gerard had tried hailing them.

Mikey volunteered to check the ships out, almost _daring_ Gerard to tell him 'no.' Gerard was learning to pick his battles, and this one seemed minor.

He helped Mikey into his flight suit, double checked all the fittings and seals, and made sure the helmet was correctly locked in place before shutting the airlock door behind Mikey. They did a final systems check before Mikey stepped out into the vacuum of space.

Carefully, Mikey picked his way across the rocky surface of the moon. "Neither ship looks damaged on the outside," he reported back.

"Still no lifesigns," Gerard said. "Be careful."

Mikey huffed out a laugh. "I know, I know. This is the part of the 3D vid where the hero gets eaten by the space monster."

"Please don't get eaten." 

"I won't, Gee, I promise."

"Okay." Gerard swallowed hard. "I don't want to lose you." And maybe Gerard wasn’t just talking about the here and now.

"You won't." As always, Mikey saw straight to the heart of him.

* * *

Bunny Marie had powered down but she'd remained on alert. When Mikey approached her main airlock, she opened it. It had been a long time since Bunny Marie had been afraid of humans; she knew how to take care of herself and she had a way of dealing with unwanted intruders. But she was curious, so she let Mikey in.

He was respectful, asking permission before setting foot on her decks and when he did, she felt an immediate connection, a subtle, electric sympatico. The only other intelligence she'd ever felt that close to was Helena, and that was because they were sisters, twinned from the same crystalline memory array.

She let him sit in the captain's chair; she wasn't equipped for human comfort, really. It had been orbs since Bunny Marie had moved her core onto the ship and even longer since a human had been on board. They talked for a long time, shared memories and tales of their lives. She made him coffee, and listened to his silences, and _knew_ they were meant to be together. Mikey talked about his brother, and the love he had for him, his other-soul, but also the difficulties of being so close. Bunny Marie understood that; it was the same with her and Helena.

Mikey's implant beeped, and Mikey bowed respectfully before stepping off the flight deck to talk to Gerard. Bunny Marie distracted herself by sending a signal to Helena, a compressed blur of data that was filled with longing and hope.

When Mikey came back after reassuring Gerard that everything was okay, Bunny Marie got straight to the point. "I have a proposition for you, Sri Way." The look on his face was comically surprised, and Bunny Marie couldn't help but laugh a little. "Not _that_ kind of proposition."

"Oh," he said, and sat down to listen.

* * *

"She's bewitched you!" Gerard knew he was being ridiculous, but he wasn’t able to stop himself. "She's cast a spell on you and now you're running away with her—"

"Gee."

Gerard was familiar with that tone of voice. It was the one that said he was being unreasonable. Which, he was, but—

"Gee. I love you," Mikey's voice was soft.

"I love you, too." The response was automatic, bred into Gerard's bones.

"It's not forever." Mikey reached out, but he hesitated before touching Gerard's arm. "It's not about you. It's about _me_."

Which meant that Gerard was being a selfish prick. "Okay," he whispered. "Okay." Mikey deserved a chance at happiness, away from Gerard. He let Mikey pull him close into a hug, pretending that his heart wasn't breaking.

* * *

"Gerard Way, requesting permission to board," Gerard had said sullenly. He didn’t need to pretend to be happy now that Mikey was happily ensconced on Bunny Marie.

Helena paused and made him wait for a long time before the light turned green on the airlock and she let him in. "Granted," she said, voice mechanical and cold.

He hefted his toolkit and had made his way inside, popping his helmet as soon as it was safe. Helena's air was musty, and tasted old, but it was infinitely better than the stuff in his suit's airpak. Gerard set his tools down on a console and turned to look around. "So, what exactly needs to be —urk!"

Gerard found himself lifted off his feet, a heavy-duty robotic manipulator wrapped around his waist and squeezing him, making it difficult to breathe. He tried to pry the metal tentacle off, but it was infinitely stronger than him, and he couldn't get a good grip on it. All he was able to do was struggle against the arm and wheeze.

"He's reprogrammed her, somehow. She would never leave me unless he's tampered with her memory matrix, may be inserted a trojan into her computational array —" Her voice grew heated and angry, losing the metallic overtones and the manipulator tightened until Gerard was sure he could hear his bones creaking. 

He wanted to laugh at how Helena's words and thoughts had echoed his, when he argued with Mikey, but he didn’t have the air to spare. "Special," he croaked.

"What?" 

"They're special, Bunny Marie and Mikey." Her manipulator loosened slightly, and she set him back on his feet. He staggered a little, bracing himself against the console as the metal tentacle uncoiled and slithered back into the wall. Gerard took a deep breath. "They're meant to be with each other."

"No, that's not true, he's —"

"Yes," Gerard said, voice full of understanding. "It hurts, because he's always been by my side, but when they're together, they're _more_." He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to ignore how alone he felt. "It's what he wants, and if it makes him happy —"

Helena didn’t say anything, and Gerard waited, feeling raw and open.

"She's my sister." 

Gerard didn’t doubt it. Some didn’t considered A.I.s to be _people_ , but Gerard never made arbitrary divisions like that. And while Bunny Marie and Helena didn’t have physical, organic bodies, and no genetic relationship, that didn’t mean they weren't sisters of the heart. He got it. "He's my brother."

Helena sighed and Gerard let himself relax a little. "Let's get you fixed up so we can blow this little moon."

"All right."

* * *

By the time Gerard finished with the repairs, he and Helena had reached an uneasy, uncomfortable truce.

"Maybe you should partner up with Helena, instead of taking the _Lady_ ," Mikey suggested as he and Gerard hauled the last of Mikey's meager belongings to Bunny Marie.

"Oh, fuck no," Gerard said, voice tinny over the com. "She'd kill me in my sleep."

Mikey snorted. "She told Bunny Marie that she likes you."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Squeezed to death by a robotic tentacle. Blown out the airlock. Do you know how many ways there are to die on a ship?" He made a cutting motion across the neck of his suit. "I'm telling you, she's out to get me. I wouldn't last long on that ship."

"She'd be good company. Not that there's anything wrong with the _Lady_ , she's been a good ship, but —"

"Maybe I like it better when my ship doesn't talk back to me." Gerard tried to rebalance all of Mikey's stuff on the float hauler; it was listing sadly to one side and threatening to dump all his junk onto the barren ground. "Maybe I'm looking forward to being alone, with nothing but a few cleaning bots for company."

"Gee—"

"I'll be fine." He would be. He promised himself that.

* * *

It shouldn't have worked, but somehow it had. Mikey and Bunny Marie had fit together like two halves of a whole, and while Gerard hadn’t admitted it, he’d been drawn to Helena's bright intelligence and curiosity, the way she could say so much without saying a word. 

They ended up selling the _Lady_ to a friend of theirs, a woman named Lindsey who was a different sort of hunter. She didn't hunt particles, but _people_ , and she was dangerous and beautiful and her old ship was beyond repair after her last job. She was happy to take on the _Lady_ , and Gerard knew that Lindsay would take care of her, treat her right.

It had been hard, taking one last walk around the ship that had been their home for so long. Gerard touched the wall, feeling the thrum of the _Lady's_ engines under his hand, so familiar, and his eyes burned.

"Take care of her," he said to Lindsey, and left before he could change his mind.

"Permission to board," he said.

"Granted," Helena murmured, and when his booted feet touched her deck, it felt like coming home.

* * *

"Do you remember when Mikey and Bunny—"

"Gerard." Helena's voice was low and soothing. "We're going to find them."

Gerard clutched the sketchbook to his chest, and close his eyes. "I can't help but wonder—" His breathing was ragged, like he was struggling against some painful truth lodged in his chest. It _hurt_. 

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder if this would have never happened if we hadn't split up, Mikey with Bunny Marie, me with you. If we'd just stayed together, this wouldn't—"

"Gerard. Stop. Please stop doing this to yourself." 

He wanted to stop, but he couldn't seem to shut off his brain, and the memories swirled around viciously, making it impossible for him to do anything except _remember_.

"Maybe you should rest, spend some time in stasis—"

"I can't help them if I'm in stasis," he snapped.

"You can't help them if you're falling apart, either," Helena said, and the simple honesty of that stopped him short. 

Gerard toyed with the idea. He was exhausted, emotionally and mentally strung out. He wasn't eating, wasn't sleeping and before long, he knew Helena was going to slap a medsticky on him and he'd pass out in his chair.

"We'll go down, both of us," she said softly. "I'll program the sensors to wake us up if we run across anything, no matter how small and insignificant it might seem. We won't miss anything, I promise."

"But—"

"Let me take care of you, love," she whispered, and he nodded tiredly.

"All right."

And she did.

* * *

It was cold when he woke, and Gerard shivered.

The ship's air was dry and musty, and he could feel the thrum of the systems coming back online in the back of his head, a muted, wordless tickle that was familiar and comforting at the same time.

"Lights," he said, his voice scratchy from disuse. The fluoros slowly brightened, casting a warm glow throughout the ship, imitating sunlight. He hadn't felt the warm touch of a sun on his skin in a very long while.

The chronometer flashed and he counted the orbs in his head; too many. Too fucking many.

"Helena?" He swung his legs out of the stasis chamber and inhaled carefully before trying to get to his feet. He staggered a little, but quickly regained his balance. "What's out there?"

_?_

He felt her uncertainty like it was his own, so he quickly dressed and went up to the flight deck. "What did you find?"

Helena highlighted a portion of the map. "Something. . .I don't know what it is."

"Let's check it out, then," he said. "Calculate a slow arc approach, that'll give us a chance to study it." He sat in his chair, tense and still, as they approached.

Once they were close enough, Helena sent out a pulse, trying to discern what the blip on their scanner was. "Metal, some organics, traces of radioactivity—"

Gerard didn't blink as the image on the screen revealed a tangled twist of metal, pitted from micrometeorites.

"It's old, Gerard, older than Bunny Marie. It's not theirs."

He nodded, and closed his eyes, wondering how much more they could take.

## Part III

Gerard wasn't sure how long he laid in the stasis chamber, hovering somewhere between awake and asleep. Everything felt distant and nebulous, and he wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dreaming, though dreams in stasis were rare. Something about the way the strong and weak nuclear forces were _warped_ under a stasis field made it difficult to transmit bioelectrochemical signals.

"Gerard?" Helena's voice was soft and tentative, and he could feel the light brush of her thoughts.

"'M awake," he yawned, sitting up slowly, groaning as the movement woke stasis-induced aches. "Lights." Gerard stared at his toes, waiting for his brain to wake up enough for him to deal with whatever had caused Helena to wake him up. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," she said. She hesitated, which was unlike her. "There's. . .an anomaly in the propulsion systems that I can't seem to resolve."

"Are we going to die if we don't fix it right this moment?" He was so fucking tired.

She sighed. "No, Gerard."

He stood up and headed toward the flight deck. "Coffee," he said. "Please."

"All right." 

By the time Gerard got to the pilot's chair, there was a mug of steaming coffee waiting for him. "I love you," he murmured.

Helena huffed at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Hmmm." Gerard sipped at his coffee. "What's the problem?"

She projected a holoschematic of the propulsion system. There were three red arrows pointing to different spots in the fuel flow. "I'm getting inconsistent readings. Tell-tales indicate a blockage, but the flow detectors aren't registering it."

Gerard made the image spin slowly with a twist of his hand. "Can you run diagnostics on the tell-tales? Seems that the most likely issue is that they're malfunctioning."

Helena flooded him with irritation. "That was the first thing I checked, Gerard. All green."

"Give me a break, love, I've only been awake for like, a handful of tics."

She grumbled at him.

"Well, it doesn't _look_ dangerous. I mean, it's part of the tertiary system, right? Backup of a backup. We can make our way back to—well, I suppose Toro's is still the nearest dry dock. Have Toro's crew figure it out."

"Like you said, it's a backup. It can wait—" 

It was a token protest, Gerard knew that. Helena was understandably picky about repairs. "No, it's not supercritical, but I don't like letting it go, either. Propulsion is important."

"It'll be good to see—"

Helena broke off, and Gerard squinted suspiciously at the bulkhead. "See who?"

"I'm going to plot our course," she said, and that was a clear dismissal.

Gerard shrugged and went into the galley for more coffee. She would tell him what was going on, eventually. She always did.

* * *

Gerard was tired and grungy, and he definitely needed a good wash before he put on clean clothes. The bathroom was tiny; Helena had offered, repeatedly, to have it retrofitted into something a little larger, but it always seemed silly to Gerard. He only used the facilities when he needed to. He didn't spend enough time in there to warrant the time and expense for renovations.

He pulled his sleep shirt over his head and caught a glance of himself in the mirror, hair sticking out at odd angles as always, but there was something _different_ about it. He combed his fingers through it, vainly trying to get it to lay flat, and it took him a moment or two to realize that his hair was _coming out_ in clumps. 

Gerard stared at the handful of hair in disbelief, waves of cold washing over him, numbing him. _His hair_. He slid down to the floor, back pressed to the wall, never looking away from the black locks. It was a symptom of too much stasis; the body didn't have time to recover from the long stretches of lowered metabolic rates. It wasn't dangerous, just—

 _Mikey._ His hand closed spasmodically around the hair and his eyes burned with tears, throat tight with sounds he couldn't let out. _Mikey._

* * *

Gerard took his time in the cleaning unit, and when he came out, he felt almost normal. He'd indulged in a rare hydrocleaning, letting the hot water pound against his back and neck, chasing away the tension that made him ache. He deliberately didn't look in the mirror, drying off and putting on clean clothes, soft with wear. Then he took a deep breath, and met his own gaze.

His head was smooth and, when Gerard touched it, sensitive. The lack of hair made his eyes look absolutely huge, and his scalp was as pale as the rest of his skin. He looked ridiculous, like some sort of baby animal. "Helena's gonna kill me," he mumbled.

Helena insisted that Gerard take better care of himself, making him eat real food, nothing reconstituted or preserved. When he wasn't looking, she slapped vitamin patches on him and forced him to drink the protein drinks she made for him. She used some sort of plant that they grew in the solarium, full of vitamins and minerals and other healthy-but-nasty things. It was horrible, but Helena kept a close eye on him, so Gerard drank what she gave him with a grimace and a shudder.

By the time they entered the Crucis system, Gerard's hair has started to grow back, soft and downy and pure white. It was different, and every time Gerard passed a reflective surface, his eyes lingered over the stranger that stared back at him.

* * *

"Gerard, I'll be honest with you, I'm worried. About you, and Helena. You look—" Ray made a wavy gesture with his hands, apparently searching for the right word. "Exhausted," he finally settled on. "I'm concerned."

Gerard shrugged. "I'm sleeping, and Helena's making sure I'm eating right. It's—" He sighed heavily. "The Dark is huge, and there's a lot of empty space, and Mikey and Bunny Marie could be _anywhere_ , and I'm trying not to worry, but—"

"But it's hard," Ray finished for him. "I know, but still. You've got to take better care of yourself, my friend."

Ray's concern warmed Gerard. In spite of the fact that Gerard had been alive for a long time, he'd never had too many friends. With the amount of time he spent out in the Dark, with only Mikey, and later Helena, for company, he was somewhat awkward at the social niceties. He hadn't needed anyone else.

Yet somehow he still managed to make friends, Ray and Lindsey and a handful of others scattered across the systems. Gerard wasn't sure how that happened, exactly.

"Ray—" There was so much he could say, but it all could be distilled down to one simple thing. "Thank you."

Ray flushed pink. "Okay, what's going on with Helena's propulsion system?"

* * *

When Frank's work bench _dinged_ with a work order, he glanced up to see a name he hadn't expected to see again for a long time. _Helena_. He had the work order sent to his retina display and scanned it quickly, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when it turned out that Helena was in for minor repairs.

She was already docked at berth 94, and Frank made himself put away his tools and clean up his work area before heading down to see her.

"Hey, pretty lady," he said, crossing over the the threshold. " _Tirigi svagatam_." _Welcome back_.

"Frank," she said, and it might have been his imagination, but she sounded happy to see him. "It's good to see you again. I've missed our talks."

Frank was sure he was blushing a little. "I've missed you, too." He fidgeted for a moment, putting his hands into his pockets, then taking them out. "What brings you back to Toro's, love? I was sure I wouldn't be seeing you for a few more orbs." 

"Tertiary propulsion system is glitching."

"Hmmm. Well, let's see what we can do about that."

They fell back into an easy rhythm, lively discussions and comfortable silences, and it was like they'd never been apart.

He ended up disassembling her entire propulsion system, tracing the fuel lines and trying to identify the problem. When that failed to yield any results, Frank looked elsewhere, dismantling the fuel intake. While he worked, he told Helena about finally getting quarters on station, and adopting Sweet Pea.

"She's such a neurotic little thing, but I love her a lot," he said, projecting a vid he'd taken of Sweet Pea playing with one of her many toys. "She's old and looks funny, but she's loyal and devoted." 

"She's beautiful," Helena responded. "You can tell just by looking at her she has a great heart."

Frank couldn't help but beam, feeling ridiculously like a proud father. "She's my baby," he admitted.

They talked about the newest trends in ship design, and they discussed a book that Frank had recently read and loved, while she downloaded a sampling of her favorite music to his work bench. He told her about his newest project, trying to build a scanner to help pinpoint fuel microleaks, making it possible to detect them earlier.

After a couple of cycles and a lot of cursing, Frank found the problem, a misaligned sprocket in a fuel manifold. "Fucking finally," Frank crowed. "Tell you what, 'Lena, you're not going to need any work done on these systems for _orbs_."

"Truth," she replied, and Frank let himself dance a little jig to celebrate.

Helena laughed. "Oh Frank, I'm going to miss you so much."

Frank's heart sank, because for a brief moment, he'd _forgotten_ that she wasn't staying. He swallowed hard. "I'm going to miss you too, pretty lady."

* * *

Helena was being unusually distant and quiet as they left the Crucis System. Gerard had asked her if something was wrong, but she'd shrugged off his questions. He could still feel her in the back of his mind, warm and humming, but shielded, like she was. . .hiding something.

Gerard knew that sometimes Helena got a little touchy about her privacy, and he understood, because he got the same way, sometimes. They'd been together for a long time, after all, and sometimes it was hard not to be annoyed at someone just because they were in your space, taking up room and breathing.

He gave her the space she needed and they headed back into the Dark.

* * *

A loud bark woke Gerard up. "Wha?" He was sure he was dreaming, but he could feel Helena _panicking_ in the back of his mind. "The fuck?" They were only a cycle out from Crucis and something was already wrong? "Helena?"

She refused to answer him, and when he tried leave his quarters, the door was _locked_. He was shocked, and when he _reached_ out, all he could sense was her fear. "Helena! What the hell is going on?" He pounded on the door with a fist, which elicited more barking and a male voice cursing. 

A voice that wasn't his, or Mikey's. 

Gerard pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear Helena's voice, speaking quickly, pleadingly. "Pirates," Gerard breathed softly. Someone must have stowed away and were trying to take over the ship. He almost laughed, because Helena had a mind of her own and hijacking her would not be as easy as it seemed.

He opened the safe in the back of his closet and pulled out his stunner, grim and determined. Helena belonged to no one except herself, and there was no way pirates were going to capture her. It took him a few tics to pry open the door mechanism and rewire it, and then he was heading toward the commotion, angry voices and barking.

The pirate saw Gerard, and his eyes widened, mouth opening like he was going to say something. Gerard didn't give him a chance, and he didn't hesitate, just stunned the pirate, watching as he fell to the ground, unconscious. The dog, tiny, wiry-haired and rather ill-favored, yelped and ran toward the downed pirate, taking a moment to growl at Gerard over its shoulder.

"Gerard!" Helena sounded shocked.

"What?" He started to approach the pirate, but backed away when the dog bared its teeth at him and snapped menacingly. "Wasn't going to let this guy hijack us."

"Frank's not a pirate!"

"Frank?" Gerard was confused; how did Helena even _know_ this man? As Gerard looked him over, Gerard felt a shift in his memories, the pirate looked vaguely familiar—oh. The Crucis Cafe. "Why is this guy on board? And how did he get here?"

Helena remained stubbornly silent.

"What the fuck, Helena? What's going on."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Gerard snorted in disbelief. "Too bad. We've got a stranger on board, who you claim isn't a pirate, and a very angry dog who looks like he'd like to rip out my throat."

"She."

"What?"

"She. The dog's name is Sweet Pea."

Gerard buried his face in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. "Helena." He took a deep breath, reaching for calm.

One of Helena's bots trundled by, a bowl of dog kibble resting on its flat top. The dog—Sweet Pea—eyed the bot, sniffing. She hesitated, licking at Frank's face before giving into temptation and following the bot and the bowl of food. 

"Well," Gerard said. He walked over to Frank and checked his pulse, which was strong and steady. There was a little bit of a bump on the back of his head where he'd hit the floor, but he didn't appear to be seriously injured. "Can you scan him? Broken bones, maybe?"

Helena didn't answer him, but after a few tics, said, "He's fine. Nothing broken."

"Lucky." He carefully tucked a small cushion under Frank's head. "You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" 

"No."

Gerard could feel her turmoil, and her stubbornness. She was doing something that she was sure that Gerard wouldn't agree with, and had no intention of letting Gerard change her mind. "All right." There were times when Helena dug in, determined to have her way. It looked like this was going to be one of those times. He sat down next to Frank, ready to wait her out.

* * *

Frank woke, hissing at the pain that throbbed in his head. "Fuck," he moaned, wondering how much he'd had to drink and why he hadn't applied a detox medsticky before he passed out. 

There was a light touch against his arm, smoothing down a bit of plastic, and in the next breath the pain receded a tiny bit. Medsticky. 

"Here. Post-stunner hangover is the worst." 

The voice wasn't familiar, and the words weren't making any sense. "What?" he croaked, cracking his eyes open. Everything was blurry, and too bright, and Frank covered his face with a hand. "Fuck," he said. There was a flash of memory, a figure appearing while he was arguing with Helena, a stunner pointed at him. "You shot me!"

"Yeah."

The guy didn't seem to be a bit sorry about it, either. "What the fuck? What did I ever do to you?" Frank struggled to a sitting position, glaring at the stranger. Who. . .looked sort of familiar. Buzzed white hair and wide eyes, and pale pale skin, dressed in all black.

"I thought you were a pirate." He seemed a little sheepish at that.

"Do I really look like a fucking pirate?" Frank asked, waving a hand at himself. He knew what he looked like, small and compact, long hair, tattoos.

The stranger grinned at him. "Dunno. Never met a pirate before. I know in the old vids, they have artificial legs and hooks for hands, eyepatches and some kind of weird bird on their shoulders, but that's from the past. You might be a modern pirate."

Against his will, Frank found himself smiling. "Who _are_ you?" he asked.

"Gerard Way, partner to Helena, Concordance designation HE-5744215 . Who the hell are you?"

"Frank A. Iero, Ship Mechanical Tech, Class II."

"Well, Frank A. Iero, Ship Mechanical Tech, Class II, what the hell are you doing on my ship?" Way's eyes flashed as he tilted his head. "While Helena and I do occasionally host guests, I don't recall inviting you aboard." 

Frank closed his eyes, thinking back. His memories were hazy; a side-effect of the stunner blast. "I had finished putting the propulsion system back together, and Helena said she had something to show me. . ." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't remember—"

"Helena is refusing to tell me what is going on." 

Frank heard a thread of puzzled hurt in Way's voice. "Helena, love? What's going on?" Frank waited, but she didn't answer. "Well."

"Indeed," Way drawled. "I didn't realize that you and Helena were such good friends." There was a familiar barking, and Way moved quickly, getting to his feet and stepping away from Frank. "I believe Helena brought along your animal companion."

"Sweet Pea!" Frank held out his arms, _oofing_ when she ran into them, barking happily and licking at his face. She made him feel warm and fuzzy inside, less afraid of the strange situation he found himself in.

"She's a great dog," Way said, keeping his distance. "I think she would have ripped my throat out if I'd tried to do anything while you were unconscious."

 _She likes treats,_ Helena broadcast, and a bot scurried over to Gerard, treats clutched in its pincers.

"Are you making fun of my dog, Way?" Frank growled, cuddling Sweet Pea close.

"Gerard. And no, she's cool, just. . .scarily protective of you." He crouched down and held out his hand for Sweet Pea to sniff, moving slowly and carefully. 

When Sweet Pea decided not to bite him, Gerard smiled and gave her a bone-shaped dog treat. It disappeared instantly, and Sweet Pea made sure to vacuum up any remaining crumbs.

"So. . ." Frank was at a loss. Here he was, heading who-knew-where, kidnapped by a sentient ship which was inhabited by a weird dude dressed like a villain from the horrible, melodramatic vids from the past.

Gerard sighed. "Well, until Helena decides to talk, we're kinda stuck. You can use the guest quarters, clean up, get some sleep. There's food in the galley, help yourself. If you need anything, let us know. I'm going back to bed."

* * *

The guest quarters were surprisingly luxurious, the bed soft and comfortable. Frank laid there, relaxing, letting the tension melt away.

"Frank."

Helena's voice was soft, tentative, like she wasn't sure if Frank would talk to her. Which, given the circumstances, wasn't an unreasonable question. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her presence.

"Frank, please—"

He sighed loudly. 

"I didn't have a choice," she said. "I—"

His eyes flew open at that. "You _always_ have a choice." 

"No, we needed—"

"Bullshit."

"We were running out of options!" she exclaimed. "We're not getting any closer to finding them and we're running out of time, I don't know how much more Gerard and I can take—"

"Slow down, love, and start from the beginning. I have no idea what you're talking about."

There was silence for several beats, and then Helena said, "There's another ship, like me. Bunny Marie. My sister, heart-twin. Gerard's brother Mikey is her partner, and they ran into a singularity mine, damaging her engines and sending them out of control. They managed to send a transmission, saying they were going into stasis and transmitting their last known coordinates. We've been searching for them since." Her voice was steady and calm, but Frank could somehow _feel_ the emotions churning through her.

He tried to imagine what it would be like to have a sibling, and then to lose them in the endless Dark, knowing they were still alive but unable to find them. . .

"I still don't understand, love. You can plot out a probability graph better than I can; what do you need me for?"

"I'm. . .not sure."

"Not sure?" The anger surged back. "Take me and Sweet Pea home," he snapped.

"I can't," she whispered, and Frank rolled over onto his side, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

* * *

"I'm just trying to use every resource available to find Mikey and Bunny Marie."

Gerard sighed, because this argument was getting them nowhere. "I _know_. But kidnapping someone, that's wrong. The ends don't justify the means. I thought you understood that."

"Fuck you, Gerard. If it were me, lost in the Dark, I would hope that you would do whatever it takes to get me back."

He knew she had a point; he _would_ do anything to get Mikey and Bunny Marie back safe. "I would, you know I would, Helena."

"Do I?" Her voice was distant and cold, and Gerard could feel her drawing up her shields, pulling away from him. It was as obvious as a door slammed in his face.

"Damn," he muttered, throwing himself onto his bed.

If he was honest with himself, he'd have to admit that it wasn't only the kidnapping that bothered him. It was the fact that Helena seemed really attached to Frank, and vice versa. Helena was usually a little standoffish with new people, introverted and shy.

Helena and Bunny Marie had never talked about it, but Gerard knew that the rest of their kind, an entire generation of Terranova-class probabilistic computers had left the inhabited regions of the Dark for places unknown. It remained a mystery, one that historians and conspiracy buffs were fascinated by.

When they'd first met, Helena and Bunny Marie had been wary of them, and of humans in general. Mikey had speculated that they'd dealt with the kinds of people, humans and others, who thought sentience was limited to organic systems, that artificial intelligences were _things_.

Bigots like that pissed Gerard off, and to be honest, he'd gotten into more than one bar fight over the issue.

The fact that Helena had grown attached to Frank so quickly made Gerard think that she wanted to move on, that she wanted _Frank_ as her partner, and that hurt.

* * *

Helena remained steadfast in her refusal to turn back toward Crucis Three. Instead, she flew back to where they'd left off on their search pattern and continued the search for any sign of Mikey and Bunny Marie.

Gerard and Frank did their best to avoid each other, Gerard spending the majority of his time in the pilot's chair, monitoring the various scanners while Frank found some comfort in Helena's rather large electronic collection of ancient books.

The ship was silent, except for the occasional inescapable conversation about mundane things, and Sweet Pea's enthusiastic barking as Frank played with her. Gerard had carefully pried at Helena's shields, but they remained firm and solid against him, cementing his fears that she didn't want to be partners anymore.

The proximity alert when off, sending adrenaline surging through Gerard's blood. He checked the sensors and dumped the visuals onto the screen. It was a ship, and even at this distance, he knew it wasn't Bunny Marie. It was smaller, sleeker, and significantly older.

"Any ID?" he asked Helena.

"What is it?" Frank asked, peering at the viewscreen.

"Ship," Gerard answered shortly, checking the standard sos freqs. "Nothing on the mayday channels," he told Helena.

"It's old, Gerard. No power signature, no heat sign, dead in the water."

"How old? I've never seen a ship like that." Frank was tracing the outline of the ship on the screen. "Looks fast and maneuverable. Built for speed."

"Yes," Helena said. "One of the Falcon lines, about four hundred orbs old, maybe a little more. Blockade runner from the Fringewar, most likely."

"No life signs," Gerard pointed out. "Gonna suit up." He turned to Frank. "You up for some exploring?"

"What? You mean—" He pointed to the ship on the screen.

"Standard Concordance procedure is to check for survivors or bodies, pull the ship's flight data and transmit it to the nearest Concordance outpost. Finder gets the cargo," Helena explained as she maneuvered closer to the ship.

Gerard shrugged. "Doubt there's anything useful left; it looks like it's been picked clean by scavengers. But still, it doesn't hurt to check." He headed to the airlock. "You coming?"

* * *

The interior of the blockade runner was dark and dusty. The engines were totally off-line; no way to even get aux power up. There was no atmo inside the ship, and as Gerard had suspected, the cargo holds were empty except for a few crates.

Gerard watched as Frank carefully pried one open. "Well. Anyone have any use for some really old ration paks?"

"They're supposed to be safe to eat for a really long time," Helena commented.

"What flavor?" Gerard asked, peering over Frank's shoulder. "Oh, mycoprotein with red sauce. My favorite. Yum." He made a face and Frank laughed. "There's a reason those are still here."

"That bad, huh?"

Gerard nodded. "Worse, actually." There was no reason to take the rations; Helena had her nanosynth and the garden in the solarium produced a wide variety of fruits and vegetables adapted to ship life. But they really had no excuse to take _bad_ rations.

They explored the rest of the ship, noting the way the hull had been punctured in a couple of spots. 

"Short range flux-cannons," Gerard said, pointing out the characteristic melt marks along the edges of the holes. "It would have taken a few hits before their shielding was blown; they had time to hit the epods."

They meandered through the corridors, the ship silent around them. Gerard could almost hear the echoes of the long-gone crew, laughing and talking, noisy and filled with life. So different from this empty shell of a ship, skeletal and dark. 

The two out of three of the escape pods had been used, the last damaged by more cannon fire. Gerard wondered if the crew had made it. They found the flight data, but had to pull the entire drive since there was no way to get the power back on. They would just send a data burst to the Concordance from Helena.

"Do you think the crew survived?" Frank asked quietly, as they walked back toward the airlock. His spotlight skimmed over the debris scattered across the floor, personal items and tools and other, unidentifiable things.

"It's possible," Gerard conceded. "I hope they did."

Frank nodded.

* * *

Frank looked over the search algorithm that Helena and Gerard had devised, and made a few logical suggestions that improved the efficiency of their search. It made Helena happy, and when she talked to Frank, Gerard felt his stomach twist in jealousy. 

Helena had lowered her shields a little, but she still kept Gerard at arm's distance, and that made Gerard even more anxious. She wouldn't talk about going back to Crucis Three, avoiding the subject. Instead, they just kept searching.

Frank and Sweet Pea settled into easily into shipboard rhythms, and Gerard exploited the fact that the way into Sweet Pea's heart was through the liberal use of dog treats. Frank scowled when he realized that Sweet Pea was letting Gerard pet her, and Gerard felt a flash of smug victory.

Whenever he had the chance, Gerard surreptitiously watched Frank, trying to figure him out. Trying to see what Helena saw in him.

Frank was smart and a fast learner. Gerard found himself unintentionally drawn into conversations with Frank about books, vids, or music. Frank had a passion for pre-spaceflight music and spent a significant portion of his salary tracking down hard to find songs and bands. He could play several archaic instruments, and had a passable singing voice, the latter which Gerard discovered when he caught Frank singing a lullaby to Sweet Pea one night.

Frank found some of Gerard's sketches, mostly of Sweet Pea, and asked to see more. Gerard handed over a couple of his sketchbooks and watched from the corner of his eye as Frank flipped the pages, face intent. He'd made sure not to let Frank see the sketches of himself that Gerard had done. "You're talented, Gerard," he finally said.

Gerard tried to brush off the praise. "Not really. It's just something I do for fun, when I'm bored."

Shaking his head, Frank said, "No, really, you're good." When Frank handed back the sketchbooks, their fingers brushed and Gerard didn't know what to do with the way his heart fluttered in his chest.

"How long have you been out here, in the Dark?" Frank asked, after they'd shared a companionable meal. "You and Helena, Mikey and Bunny Marie?"

"A long time," Gerard answered. "Sometimes it feels like forever." He folded and unfolded his napkin, fingers nervous and twitchy.

"Don't you miss being planetside, breathing in real air, interacting with people? It's got to be lonely with only the two of you." Frank didn't sound judgemental, just curious.

Gerard shrugged. "We—Mikey and I—we were lab grown, you know? Designed to be solitary, to spend long periods of time alone in the Dark." He sighed and brushed his fingers through his hair, still unused to the shortness. "It's easy to get lost in your head, and the orbs melt away and everything you knew and believed in is gone."

"Sounds. . .hard."

"I'm used to it—we're used to it."

Frank hummed thoughtfully in response, throwing Sweet Pea's ball and playing a few rounds of fetch with her.

* * *

Frank wasn't sure how it happened, but Helena got him drunk. Helena had a fascination of the many types of liquid intoxicants that sentients imbibed and she explained the history of some of the more common drinks, complete with samples. Frank taste tested everything she put in front of him, giggling and snorting at the disapproval that Gerard was radiating.

"C'mon, Gerard, lighten up." Frank put his bare feet on top of Gerard's under the table, sneaking his toes under the hem of Gerard's pants. Gerard shivered and pulled away, and Frank internally cheered himself for provoking a reaction.

"'M busy," Gerard mumbled, flipping through a notebook filled with equations.

A bot set another drink in front of Frank, a dark purple color, with bubbles. 

"Vryech, distilled from a pretty flower. Mostly drunk on Musca Prime," Helena explained. "Very popular with the locals."

Frank sniffed at the contents of his glass before taking a cautious sip. "Oh, that's wonderful! Like fireworks on my tongue." He scooted his chair closer to Gerard and tried to see what he was doing. "Gotta try this, Gerard. It's awesome." He leaned against Gerard, enjoying the heat from his body. "You feel good."

Gerard froze before sighing softly. "Frank, you're drunk—"

"Not."

"Yeah, you are. And—"

Frank was tired of hearing Gerard's excuses, so he shut Gerard up the easiest way he knew how, by kissing him. It always worked in the romance vids. Not that he watched them or anything. Gerard's lips were soft and warm, and when Frank licked at them, he gasped and opened for Frank.

"Oh," Gerard said, surprised, when he pulled away.

"Yeah," Frank said. "Take me to bed." He kissed Gerard again, and stood up, staggering as Helena seemed to shift under his feet. "Whoa."

"Yeah, it's bedtime for you." Gerard took a firm grip on Frank's elbow and led him to his quarters. Frank listed to one side and almost toppled over, but was saved by Gerard. 

"The ceiling is spinning," Frank said as he collapsed on the bed and looked up. It was an awesome feeling, like the way he felt when he kissed Gerard.

"Okay." Gerard left the room for a tic; Frank could here him in the ensuite bathroom, running water in the sink. "Here, drink some water before you go to sleep."

Frank tried, but that required sitting up, and apparently he didn't have the coordination or balance for that. "Ooops." 

Gerard helped Frank sit back up, arm around his shoulders, while he drank. He felt safe in Gerard's arms; he'd never felt that way before.

"Where do you want the detox patch?"

Frank slid his hand under his shirt and pushed it up, revealing his belly and chest. He's seen the way Gerard had snuck glances at his tattoos. "Here." He touched the center of his chest. "Right here."

"Frank," Gerard whispered, "Frankie, I can't, you're—" Gerard peeled off the backing and smoothed the medsticky onto Frank's skin, laying his palm flat against Frank's chest.

"Stay," Frank said, softly. "Just hold me and stay." He could see Gerard wavering. "Please."

"Okay." Gerard pulled Frank's shirt back down and slid in next to him, one arm pillowing his own head, the other wrapped around Frank's waist.

* * *

It was the same dream that Gerard has been having for a while, a terrifying re-enactment of Bunny Marie hitting the singularity mine, the massive gravitational forces shredding her hull like paper. In his dream, there was no escaping the destruction. It happened in slow motion, every detail excruciatingly vivid, and when he woke, it was with a cry, tears streaking his face. 

"What's wrong," Frank asked, and Gerard shook off his touch, ducking his head to hide the tears. The medipatch really made a difference; Frank didn't seem hung over at all.

"Just a dream," he said dully, and slid out of the bed. "Same fucking dream."

"Hey—" Frank reached out, but Gerard flinched away. He couldn't handle being touched right now, with the echoes of the dream still in his blood. "The Dark is huge, Gerard. It's going to take a long time to find Bunny Marie and Mikey, if we're lucky. Chances are we won't—"

Frank stopped, and Gerard finished the sentence. "Chances are we won't find them? Is that what you were going to say?"

"No—yes. I'm sorry, Gerard, but it's almost impossible, there's too much space, too much distance—"

"Fuck you." The words dripped with ice, and Gerard felt a flush of cold. "I'm not giving up on them." He turned and walked away, because right now, he was close to shattering. He went to his quarters and locked the door behind him.

He could feel Helena brush against his mind, worried and afraid, and he shut her out, too.

* * *

Gerard barely heard the knock, and he didn't have the energy to keep fighting. It was so easy to bury his face in his pillow and ignore everything around him. "Come in."

It was Frank, and he looked pale and subdued. "I talked to Helena; she said she'll take me back to Crucis Three, if that's what I want."

Gerard shrugged. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Gerard. . ." Frank sighed, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through Gerard's hair. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help, but I don't think. . ." He laid down and pulled Gerard close, kissing him slowly, sweetly, like he had all the time in the world.

"Frank," Gerard sighed. He rested his forehead against Frank's, and wished that things could be different.

"Let me take care of you," Frank said, stroking his hand up and down Gerard's back. He kissed Gerard again, and again until Gerard couldn't think, kisses pressed to the corner of his mouth, the tip of his nose, everywhere Frank could reach. "I want to make you feel good."

He just wanted everything to stop hurting. "Okay," he said, giving himself up to Frank.

* * *

It had been a long time since Gerard had let anyone touch him. His lifestyle wasn't conducive to relationships, and over time, he'd gotten tired of casual sex and one nighters. In truth, it was easier to not get involved.

Frank touched him like he meant it, like Gerard was something important and precious, hands skimming under Gerard's clothes and pushing them off, slow and careful. Frank kissed each new bit of skin as he uncovered it, and Gerard shivered and trembled under his touch.

"So beautiful," Frank whispered, and Gerard couldn't watch Frank any longer, throwing his head back with a moan as Frank nibbled at his ear, neck, collarbone, nipple.

"Frank, Frank—" Gerard's voice was urgent and rough, and his hands twisted in the blankets under him.

"Oh, baby." Frank covered Gerard's hands with his own, untangling his fingers from the bedding. "You can touch me, too. Want you hands on me."

Gerard didn't hesitate, letting his hand roam over Frank, slipping under his shirt and trying to see if his tattoos felt any different than the rest of his skin. "Need you so much, make me feel—"

"I'll make you feel so good, just let me—" Frank went back to kissing him, over and over. Gerard couldn't do anything but pant and squirm against Frank, making needy little sounds. "Shhhh, I got you, Gerard." 

Frank's clever hand cupped Gerard's cock over his pants, pressing with the perfect amount of pressure and Gerard arched into the touch. "Frank, Frank, close—"

"So soon?" Frank teased. "Guess I'm good at this." He slid down Gerard's body, gripping fabric and _pulling_. "Look at you."

Gerard glanced down just as Frank mouthed at his cock and that was all Gerard could take, biting his lip against the sounds that Frank was pulling out of him with the wet and heat of his mouth, the softness of his tongue. It was too much and not enough and Gerard cried out, fingers tangled in Frank's hair as he came, heat racing over his skin like fire.

He blindly reached for Frank's cock, hands shaking, but determined to get him off, only to find that Frank had beat him there. "Let me," Gerard mumbled, and he wrapped his fingers around Frank's and together they stroked and twisted until Frank shuddered and came. 

Gerard let himself rest against Frank, nuzzling against his neck.

Frank leaned down, tipped Gerard's chin up, and kissed him.

* * *

Gerard had finally fallen asleep, face tear-streaked and vulnerable. Frank forced himself to get up and put his clothes back on, heading for the flight deck. He sat in Gerard's chair, checking the scanners, searching for something to give him a glimmer of hope, but there was nothing. Except— "Helena, what's this?"

"That's the quark detector. It's one of the subatomic particles that we look for—"

Frank interrupted her with a hiss, holding up a hand. One of the by-products from ship engines were quarks, in minute amounts. But if he could fine tune the detector, like he had for his fuel leak sensor. . .

He dropped to his knees, scrambling to pry off the cover of the sensor array. "I need some tools," he said. "A spanner, wire connectors, electrometer, whatever else you have, I need it now, Helena, fuck, I think I've figured it out—"

"What, Frank?" He heard bots in the distance, gathering what he needed. 

"If I can improve the sensitivity of the quark detector, and fine tune it so that we can differentiate them by flavor and color, then we can narrow it down and track the particles that are part of engine emissions, rather that quarks from other sources. It can work, it _will_ work, I'm sure of it—"

"But what about—"

"No, if I rewire this fucker to take into account the antimagnetism, then it'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Helena's voice was uncertain.

"Yeah." Frank looked up at one of Helena's cams and winked. "Trust me."

* * *

It took Frank the better part of a couple of beats to rewire the sensor array, and the first attempt had resulted in a shower of sparks and enough cursing to draw both Sweet Pea and Gerard to the flight deck. The second attempt had the system rebooting, then slowly coming back online, a bright sparkle of white indicating the quarks they were looking for.

"Frank—" Gerard breathed. "Is that—"

"Yes."

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank and squeezed him hard. "I can't believe it," he muttered, as Helena changed their course to follow the quark trail.

"Whatever happens—"

"We'll take you home, Frank, don't worry—" Frank wasn't made for the Dark; he wasn't like Gerard. He belonged in sunlight and gravity, someplace where he could breathe the air and touch the sky.

"No, I was going to say, no matter what happens, I'm not leaving you and Helena."

"Oh." Gerard hadn't been expecting that. "I didn't—"

"Sweet Pea and I, we belong here, with you."

Gerard leaned down and kissed Frank. "I think Helena will like that." The endless possibilities stretched out in front of them, glittering like a starfield.

 _I would,_ Helena whispered.

* * *

They found Bunny Marie after two nerve-wracking cycles. 

Gerard did nothing but pace and mumble to himself, ignoring both Helena and Frank's attempts to get him to sleep, to eat, to rest. He could rest later, after they found Mikey. 

The proximity alert went off and Gerard _ran_ to the flight deck, gasping when he saw Bunny Marie on the viewscreen, spinning wildly out of control. "Helena—"

"Got her, Gerard." They moved in close, and Helena used an inertial dampener to bleed off Bunny Marie's spin. Once the excess energy was gone, Helena moved in close and matched speed, connecting up their exterior airlocks. "She's still got pressure, but I don't know for how long. She's taken a lot of damage."

Gerard went and started suiting up, unwilling to wait any longer. "We'll figure it out." He bounced impatiently at the airlock door, and when it swung open, he went inside, slower that he wanted. He made his way through Bunny Marie's corridors, so like Helena, until he got to the stasis chamber. He sealed the room and flipped the switches, and when the lid rose up, he couldn't see Mikey's face because he was crying.

He pulled off the helmet and watched as Mikey coughed and opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly until he recognized Gerard and _smiled_. Gerard grabbed a towel out of the cabinet and pulled Mikey to a sitting position, wrapping him in the towel.

"Mikey," he said, holding him close and feeling him shiver. "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey."

"I knew you'd find me," Mikey said, voice shot, and Gerard just held him tighter.

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> One of the things that really bugs me about scifi is how _white_ and English it is. The largest ethnicity in the world is Han Chinese (at 18%), and the top four most spoken languages are: Mandarin Chinese (14.1%), Hindi (8.5%), Spanish (5.85%) and Arabic (4.23%). Joss Whedon came close, with Firefly, as did Joe Halderman (with his Confederacion universe). I tried to put a little of that into this story, with the use of Telugu words and place names on Crucis Three.
> 
> The [beanstalk](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Space_elevator) is a very real idea, one that will bring the cost of transporting mass into space down to pennies per pound. It's a common trope in scifi, from Heinlein's _Friday_ to David Brin's _Sundiver_.
> 
> Crucis Three (Epsilon Crucis) is part of the [Southern Cross](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crux) constellation, a K class orange star, possibly a giant or supergiant. The Southern Cross is near the [Coalsack Nebula](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coalsack), which in my mind is always the home of the Moties in Pournelle and Niven's _Mote In God's Eye_ 'verse. (I sometimes say "On the gripping hand..." and no one but diehard fans of the books gets me *sadface*)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for akamine_chan's 'Shadow of a Damaged Heart'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/946660) by [turlough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turlough/pseuds/turlough)




End file.
